Page 83 of Storm Echo

Inside Soleil, her cat curled up into a tight ball. Its pain was intense. The lack of intimate touch in her life … of any affectionate touch over the time since she’d woken in her hospital bed, it had hurt, and it still hurt.

Skin privileges were an integral part of an adult changeling’s life. Changelings weren’t human or Psy, needed the physical contact to thrive. Soleil had been lucky enough to have had affection and friendship in her life, but she’d never found a true lover. Any intimate skin privileges she’d exchanged had been with generous and kind friends who’d sensed her touch hunger and offered to assuage it.

A thing of comfort rather than carnal pleasure.

Soleil treasured their gift of touch, but she’d always wondered if there was something wrong with her that she’d never experienced the carnal heat that so many of her kind talked about, the storm of the blood that made a cat want to scratch and bite and mark her lover.

Her eyes flicked up to meet those of searing iceblue, the banked heat in them scalding. And her panties went damp, her cat arching its back inside her. Nope, there was absolutely nothing wrong with her. She’d just had to find the right man. “I want to bite you,” she said, the words falling out of her mouth before she was aware of thinking them.

He said, “I’ve never been naked with anyone.” Words potent with tension, that dangerous gaze never moving off her. “Sex was verboten under Silence.”

The entire world retreated, the silence a paradoxical roar in her ears. Breath coming faster, she just stared at him, unable to imagine that this lethal, beautiful man had never shared his body with a lover. But then … he didn’t share much of himself at all, did he? Shields and walls, those were the things that composed Ivan.

“What?” It came out a strangled sort of word, her voice rough. “Not even after the fall?” Her cat snarled in jealousy at the idea of anyone else touching him, but it was also mad that he’d denied himself the comfort of such intensive physical contact.

As a healer, she knew just how much touch meant, not only to changelings but to humans. Humans didn’t need it to the same extent as a changeling, but they withered without it all the same.

Psy couldn’t be so very different.

And fact was fact: the man was gorgeous and sexy and even if he’d never dropped his mask of frigid ice, a lot of women liked dancing with danger. He would’ve had no problem filling his bed every night had he wished it.

As if summoned up by her thoughts, their waitress returned to the table. “Is everything all right?” she asked brightly, subtly angling her body toward Ivan. “Do you need anything else? Anything at all?”

“Everything is fine,” Ivan said, his tone polite but empty of any ounce of emotion. It was as if he hadn’t even noticed that the woman was all but salivating over him. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“Of course.” The waitress gave a tight smile and walked away.

Soleil almost felt sorry for her. Ivan Mercant packed a serious punch.

“To answer your question,” Ivan said after the waitress was out of earshot. “The only woman I’ve ever considered in that context is sitting across from me. You walked out of the forest and something inside me hungered. For your smile, for your words, and for your touch.”

Her cheeks went hot at what was outwardly a cool and curt recitation, her breasts heavy and taut. “Eat,” she rasped. “You’re going to need your energy.” Because her cat was through with waiting—and so, it seemed, was the man with eyes as cold as frost.

She couldn’t take her gaze from him as he began to fuel his body with focused attention. A beautiful, honed knife of a body. Her hands itched to trace the lines of his muscles, learn the places where he was hard and where he was soft, nuzzle her nose into the curve of his neck, kiss and lick every inch of ink on his skin.

Snapping up his head without warning, Ivan pulled back the sleeve of his blazer to reveal a communications device as small as a watch. When he swiped it over the reader on the table, she realized it must hold a credit chip, too. The screen glowed blue to show that they’d cleared their bill, complete with suggested tip.

“Ivan—”

A single glance that made it clear he was in no mood to wait. And she remembered … they were bonded. In a way that sent erratic bursts of information across from one to the other.

And she’d just been indulging in fantasies erotic and wild.

As she watched with her heart in her throat, he caught the attention of a busboy and asked the lanky youth—who Soleil’s nose told her was a leopard juvenile—to package up their mostly uneaten food to go. “Fast as you can.” He slid a physical credit token onto the table, the amount it represented equal to half their bill.

Eyes going wide, the juvenilemoved, and had the food back to them in a matter of minutes. The boy pocketed the tip after Ivan thanked him for his quick work, then grinned and went to hug Soleil before hesitating. Smiling, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight. He was one of hers now, a cub to protect.

Wrapping his arms around her in turn, he squeezed her back as hard. “Welcome to the pack,” he said, the scent of him sharp and young and wild.

“Thank you, baby.” It just came out, that gently affectionate word.

He blushed and ducked his head but took it with a smiling roll of his eyes. Because she was a healer, and this was a pack in which healers were cherished and respected.

As she was heading to the door, she realized she didn’t know the boy’s name. But that was okay. Because she had his scent and he already felt safe enough with her to have hugged her. Even with her deadly Psy right next to her the entire time. Because the boy had sensed that Ivan was no threat to him—children knew, they always knew. “Thank you for indulging the cub.”

A curt nod. “He was excited to see you.”

She went to reply but Ivan put his hand on her lower back as she walked out the front door and her mind short-circuited, her cat remembering exactly where they’d been before the small interruption. Her body snapped right back to taut, exquisite readiness. She wanted to arch her back and moan, the slight contact a tease she could hardly bear.

---